CHAPTER TWO
Omaera
After our sexy walk through the woods, I felt closer to Zandren than ever. My bear truly understood me. He was patient, and he listened. However, he also provided me with a sense of safety and security I’m not sure I’d ever truly felt before. Even when I lived with Aunt Delia. My aunt did everything she could to protect me, and she’d done a wonderful job, but maybe now that I knew I was more than just human, I understood that niggling sensation in the back of my head that I’d ignored my whole life.
I always felt like there was something else.
Something more.
Something … that no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn’t be able to protect me from.
Perhaps I was saying that now that I knew, but if I thought long and hard about my last twenty-two years on this planet, I was embarrassed I didn’t read more into those feelings and the signs. That I didn’t do more investigating into my true nature and who I really was. Maybe I’d have uncovered something about my father sooner and been able to prevent all of this from happening.
Then again, she’d done a very good job of shielding me from this world. Not only with her magical spells, but also in the way she constantly shut me down whenever I asked about my father. Or the way she redirected the conversation to the same canned responses about my mother and how much she loved me and that no matter what, she was always with me.
But those weren’t the answers I wanted.
I wanted to know where I came from. I wanted to know why no other family came searching for me. Why was Delia the only person on either side interested in getting to know me? Didn’t my grandparents want me? Did I have cousins? Other aunts and uncles?
My young, obstinate, petulant self chalked it up to her just wanting to keep me all to herself, but I should have known better. She was protecting me from the truth. Protecting me from … all of this.
She couldn’t have known what would happen though. That Lerris would kill my father.
Or maybe she did.
Maybe she suspected that if Lerris knew about my father having an heir, he’d come after me.
Either way, although I knew my aunt was trying to protect me, I never truly believed that she could. She was a tiny woman whose bark was far worse than her bite.
Zandren was the opposite. His bite was infinitely more lethal than his bark—or growl, in this case. I’d never felt safer walking through the woods—or anywhere, for that matter—than I did with my bear by my side.
All good things must come to an end though, and after a few hours snuggled up in the fury embrace of my bear, I knew we needed to return to the cottage. I needed to get back to not only Gemma, but Drak and Maxar too. Maxar was hurt, and Drak was … well, he was part of this too, and as much as he drove me nuts, the grumpy vampire was growing on me.
We arrived back at the healer-mage’s quaint cottage only to find Drak passed out cold on the couch with a compress on his head, and Maxar and Melissima were nowhere to be found.
“I’m going to go find something to eat,” Zandren said, pulling me close and pressing a kiss to the side of my head before releasing me. “You want anything? ”
I shook my head. “I’m okay. I’m going to go find Maxar and Melissima.”
He nodded, and we parted ways with him going to the kitchen and me wandering down the hallway toward the soft murmur of voices.
“I won’t touch you,” Melissima said softly in her breathy voice. “How bad is it?”
“It’s like a fucking hot poker to the heart,” Maxar said with a grunt. “Is it like this for all mages? Or just because I’m a fire-mage?”
“Well, I’m assuming it’s just more intense because you’re a fire-mage, but all mages experience this before they mate.”
“Fuck.”
I peered around the corner where, luckily, Melissima had her back to me, and Maxar was reclined on a single bed, his eyes closed. She was waving her hands over him, humming softly, but not touching him. It looked like she was performing that Reiki stuff they advertised at the clinic where I used to get my acupuncture. I didn’t believe in it, but … maybe those performing it were all mages, so it actually worked? Up until a week ago I didn’t even know mages, vampires, shifters, or demons even existed. So who was I to think Reiki wasn’t real?
“You should tell her,” Melissima said. “I don’t understand why you are all so stubborn, keeping her in the dark. The vampire is the same way. He’s in agony and it’s all because of his damn pride.”
“I don’t want her to mate me until she’s ready,” Maxar gritted out in frustration. “I just … I just need to avoid being touched by a member of the opposite sex until then. Should be easy enough.” He sucked in a sharp breath, as if in sudden pain. “Ouch!”
“Sorry. My knee bumped your hand.”
Wait, so any time a member of the opposite sex touched Maxar, it hurt him? Since when? Since the lightning strike? And was it only until we mated? Why the hell didn’t he say anything?
And what did Melissima mean about Drak keeping something from me and being in agony because of his pride?
Worry and anger whipped together into a nauseating froth inside of me. I’d been kept in the dark my whole life, and here I thought my mates were supposed to be the ones I could trust … yet, a few of them were still keeping shit from me, apparently.
“You tried to cauterize your own wound, didn’t you?” Melissima asked, disapproval in her voice. She clucked her tongue for good measure.
“There wasn’t much else to do in the moment. When you’re under siege, you use what you’ve got. And luckily, I’m not an earth-mage, because conjuring dirt, wind, and squirrels wouldn’t have really helped me in that particular moment.” He grunted again and made another sound of pain. “I just need time to heal. That’s all. It’s not fatal.”
“Maybe not, but I can see your bones, liver, pancreas, and part of your small intestine. It’s not great. This will take a while to heal.”
“Ouch! You touched me on purpose that time.”
“Perhaps. Stop trying to cauterize the damn thing and let me do my job. What I was trained and born to do.”
I couldn’t hear the irritated, cantankerous thing Maxar murmured in response, but it made Melissima chuckle.
I probably shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but fuck it. If they were going to keep me in the dark, it was my job to strike the match so I could, at the very least, make out the shadows of what I was dealing with.
I stood outside the bedroom, continuing to eavesdrop on their conversation, though it mostly tapered off so that Melissima could work. Occasionally they spoke, but it was mostly her checking in on his comfort.
“All right, just rest. I’ll come check on you in a bit. I need to go see how Gemma is doing anyway.”
“Thanks,” Maxar grunted just as Melissima turned the corner, not appearing at all surprised that I was standing there. A cute little smirk curled up one corner of her cupid’s-bow-mouth, and she tossed me a wink. “You’ve got some stubborn mates.” Her cool hand landed on my shoulder. “But the fact that they’re keeping you in the dark because they want you to want them is admirable—if not foolish.”
My cheeks burned, and more emotions added to the cocktail swirling inside of me. Worry and anger were still there, but they weren’t at the forefront anymore. At least, anger wasn’t.
She removed her hand and floated down the hallway, her flowy skirts trailing behind her. I stepped into the bedroom where Maxar lay on his back, hands at his sides, eyes closed. He didn’t look like he was in pain, and the wounds from earlier had fresh dressings over them, which seemed infinitely better than his garish cauterizing from earlier.
I slipped my hand into his and he moaned, so I quickly removed it.
“No, that feels good,” he murmured, not bothering to open his eyes.
I reclaimed his hand, and he squeezed mine gently.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you can’t touch, or be touched by another woman until we mate? Why would you keep that from me?”
He pried open one amber eye. It was like staring into swirling bourbon, and heat instantly filled that one bright orb. “You’re already dealing with so much. I didn’t want to add to it.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and shook my head. “What happens when someone else touches you?”
His smile was small and seemed slightly forced. “You might think it’s funny, but it’s like I’m being burned from the inside out. It’s excruciating.”
“A-and it will stop if we mate?”
He nodded and opened the other eye. “But I don’t want you to mate me until you’re ready. Until you want to. Besides,” he shrugged, “the Fates will know if you’re forcing your feelings and they won’t grant the bond.”
“Are the Fates tangible entities? The way you guys all talk about them … I picture this round table of old dudes with long white beards just dictating everyone else’s lives. Watching things transpire through crystal balls.” I scrunched my nose. “Kind of pervy bastards, honestly.”
That made him chuckle, but then immediately wince. “Can’t say I’ve ever met the Fates. So maybe you’re right.”
“Don’t you guys believe in like a bunch of gods too? Are they different from the Fates?” There was still so much to learn about this realm I was apparently the ruler of. New deities, new species, new ways to die. It was overwhelming. I was only twenty-two. I didn’t even have a handle on my own world, let alone this new one I’d been unceremoniously hurled into.
“They are.” His jaw clenched which told me he was in more pain. “But maybe we can have a theology lesson another day?”
He was starting to spook me. Even though I’d only known him for a week, Maxar had very quickly cemented himself as the psychotic jokester of our ragtag crew. Chaotic, unpredictable, and just a little scary, if I was being honest. Not in a wear-your-skin-as-a-suit kind of way, but more like, he wouldn’t hesitate to roast, scorch, or broil someone who pissed him off. But he wasn’t acting like that at all right now. And that told me it was because he was channeling all of that normal smart-ass energy into healing and disassociating from the pain.
He swallowed, his gaze boring into mine. “I don’t foresee the need to touch, or be touched, by other women very often. It’s not that much of an inconvenience.”
My heart went out to him. I understood why he kept it from me, but if we were destined by the Fates to be together for eternity, surely that meant he was supposed to trust me with stuff like this. “I still wish you’d told me.”
He shifted closer to the wall the bed was up against and released my hand so he could pat the bed, encouraging me to hop up and sit down. So I did. “I won’t ever keep anything from you again, My Queen. I promise.”
Tears stung the backs of my eyes. “You’re going to be okay, right? I know you guys told me all the ways shifters, vampires, mages, and demons can die, but this isn’t one of them, is it?”
A bigger, more genuine smile stretched across his handsome face. “This isn’t one of them.”
“You’re like a cat with nine lives?”
His dark-red brows furrowed into a frown. “Ooh, don’t you dare compare me to a cat. That’s almost as bad as comparing me to a bear.”
That made me giggle, but only for a second. “How much pain are you in?”
“Less, now that you’re here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be serious.”
He nodded. “I am. Your touch is healing me. Truly. Even though we’re not bonded, you are my mate, and your touch is healing. I can feel myself mending more than when Melissima was here doing her voodoo magic.”
“She’s a mage like you, and you make fun of her and call it voodoo?”
His expression was deadly serious. Gone was the playful glint in his whiskey eyes that I’d become so used to. “I’m not making fun. What do you think voodooists, witch doctors, and servitors are? They’re all mages. Just like magicians. Just like shamans. It’s all real. A lot of voodoo is done by healer and spellcaster-mages. It’s not all just poking pins in a human-shaped cushion. Hell, even psychics are mages.” His brows pinched again for a second. “Well, the real and good ones are. There are those human shysters that pretend to see the future just to fleece people of their money. But the good ones are mages.”
Warm, pleasant tingles raced down my arm and into his hand. I could feel the healing power I had, just from being his mate, transferring into him. I wanted to do more. I hated this helpless feeling and seeing him so injured. Sure, it was because Zandren was possessed by my uncle and tried to kill Maxar, but the mage didn’t seem to be holding it against my bear. “Would more skin-to-skin help?”
A flicker of the old Maxar dashed behind his eyes making them flare with amber fire. But then he sobered and nodded. “Yeah, I think it would.”
“O-okay.” I released his hand and peeled off my T-shirt so that I was in my bra and the black sweatpants I borrowed from Melissima. I peeled out of those too, until I was just in bra and panties. Not once did Maxar take his eyes off me. The heat from his gaze cascaded down my skin as if made of real flames, triggering a rush of goosebumps to chase across my chest and down my arms and legs.
Carefully, I helped him out of his T-shirt, but left him in his black sweats—even though the erection he sported was very distracting. Gently, I slid my hands over his warm, smooth skin. He was almost too hot to the touch, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
“Straddle me,” he gritted out. “You won’t hurt me.”
Nodding, I lifted up onto my knees and swung one leg over his body, making sure to not be on his abdomen or even pull on it in any way. However, that meant I was sitting on his very hard cock.
Our eyes locked, and I swallowed. A cheeky, playful grin curled one side of his mouth more than the other. “I have my period,” I said, a little out of breath for no reason.
“Couldn’t give a flying fuck about that, sweetheart. But … I’m a little under the weather myself, so maybe just some heavy petting?”
That made me smile. Careful to avoid the magical dressings that Melissima had put on his wounds, I started at his hipbones and gently worked my hands up his torso. His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned deep in his toned chest. His cock twitched beneath me, and it was impossible for me not to grind down on him a little.
Warmth filled my entire body, along with a tingling sensation not unlike what I experienced when I drank carbonated water. Only instead of cold and refreshing, it was warm and comforting. Like carbonated hot tea.
My breath grew more and more ragged as I continued to rub my hands over him. His hips rocked beneath me and before I realized what I was doing, I was gyrating my pelvis on his, shamelessly seeking more friction against my clit.
“Omaera,” he murmured, making me open my eyes. I didn’t even realize I’d closed them. “It’s a bit odd that we’re dry humping like teenagers and I’ve never even kissed you?”
A fresh wave of heat filled my cheeks, but that rush of embarrassment was no match for the smile that pulled up at the corners of my mouth. “Then we need to fix that.”
Maxar nodded, reaching up and cupping my jaw in his big hand, possessively, and pulling me down. I made sure to brace myself with my hands on either side of him so that I didn’t rest any of my weight on his body. When his lips brushed against mine—soft, warm, and way too sweet for someone who could very well be a sociopath—it was all I could do not to completely melt into him.
His pinky finger rested against my neck, no doubt feeling my racing pulse, as he took control of the kiss. His tongue was skilled, not too intrusive, and wickedly teasing of prowess I could experience elsewhere if I wanted. With every stroke of his tongue against mine, the closer to climax I drew. I wasn’t even grinding against him anymore. We were just kissing. Just making out, and yet, the way all my erogenous zones lit up—as if on fire in the most exquisite way—had me spellbound and completely at his mercy.
Reaching up with his other hand, he cupped my breast over my bra and fresh, hot pleasure raced through me. Almost as if flames were flickering on my nipples. I gasped and broke the kiss, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. He still held the side of my face, so even if I wanted to—which I didn’t—I couldn’t have pulled away.
The old Maxar was back; the daring, playful glint back in his amber gaze. “What do you feel, My Queen?”
“You know what you’re doing,” I practically panted. Hot, decadent pools of need filled every corner of my body.
“I do. But I want to hear it from you. What do you feel ?”
“Heat,” I breathed. “Fire.” I swallowed. “Pleasure.”
“Where?”
Blinking quickly, I concentrated on exactly where I was feeling the flames. “M-my nipples.”
“Where else?”
I swallowed again and startled when what felt like fingers stroking my clit nearly made me come on the spot. Glancing down at his hand where it rested on the bed, I couldn’t figure out what was happening. He still had my jaw cupped with his other hand. How was this possible?
“Where else?” he asked again, a bit more sternly, which made me jump to answer him like a good girl.
“My clit. But … it’s like you’re rubbing it. H-how is that possible?”
“Magic.” He did it again, and I groaned. “Where else?”
I was having a hard time concentrating at this point.
“Where else, Omaera?”
The use of my real name, rather than the nickname “My Queen” that he preferred, brought me back to reality.
“In-inside,” I stammered. “It’s like you’re inside me, b-but you’re not.”
“I can direct flames to wherever I want inside your body. Flames of pure pleasure. I can tell them what to do. Where to touch. Where else would you like these flames?”
Oh god … What a question. Everywhere? I wanted to wear flames like a damned hazmat suit so that every single cell of my body felt the way my nipples and clit did.
This isn’t about you. You’re supposed to be healing him .
Right.
My conscience snapped me back to reality, and I blinked. “You don’t have to do this. Let me help you . You’re probably wasting valuable energy, aren’t you?”
His chuckle did nothing to quell the surmounting desire inside of me. All it did was rake across my clit like a stubble-covered chin and make me tremble. “Oh, My Queen, this is helping me. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”
“Maxar, please. I can’t bear the thought of you in pain.” I sat up, forcing him to release his hold on my jaw.
“I wasn’t in any pain until you pulled away. Let me make you come, Omaera. It’s all I’ve dreamed of since the moment I caught your scent and realized the Fates had finally granted me a mate. That will heal me.”
I regarded him with a lifted brow. It was tough to tell if he was lying or not. He really did have some sociopathic qualities, but for reasons I’m sure the Fates had a hand in, I was drawn to them. His chaos lured me in like a honeytrap, and I wanted nothing more than to give him what he asked for.
“Take off your bra,” he ordered, his gaze and tone leaving me absolutely no room to refuse. My spine snapped straight, and I reached behind me to unclasp my bra, allowing my breasts to spill forward.
Now I was in nothing but my underwear.
His hands came up to rest on my hipbones, and he guided me to start rocking against him again. His left hand trailed up my side until his thumb brushed against the ink of my purple rose and skull tattoo. Every stroke was like he was brushing that thumb across my clit, making me tremble with unbridled need.
I knew it was magic, but I still kept asking, “How?” in my brain.
How could he touch me in one place, but I felt it in an entirely different place?
Biting my lip, I rested my hands behind me on his thighs because I couldn’t lean forward and rest them on his stomach. His quads were hot, tight steel beneath my fingertips while his cock was like a rod of iron, fresh from the blacksmith’s coals. He continued to stroke my tattoo with one hand while his other hand meandered between us and beneath the cotton of my underwear to where I was soaking wet and so damned close.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his lips parting slightly. “I can’t wait to be inside you, My Queen. You’re utter perfection.” With both hands, he snapped his fingers and just like that, two pink flames—the same shade of pink as the highlighters I used to use in high school—ignited over my nipples, dancing and flickering. A new, intense wave of pleasure rushed through me, but it was when that same sensation started happening between my legs and small pink flames peeked out around his hand beneath my underwear, that the building climax inside of me really started to take shape.
Until now, I’d been pushing it off as best I could, eager to prolong the experience. But it was like Maxar was determined to burn my resolve to a crisp and push me into sweet oblivion.
A light mist of sweat broke out along my forehead and chest, and my heart hammered wildly in my ears as I rocked back and forth over his cock and his fingers and the flames did their skilled, magical work all over my body. My clit throbbed, my nipples hardened to tight points, and my lower belly tingled and tightened as the pressure built in every muscle like a volcano gearing up to devastate an entire island.
“Maxar,” I pleaded, though it came out as more of a whimper.
“Not yet, My Queen.”
“Please.” Now my words were coming out as sobs.
“Open your eyes, Omaera. Look at me. Watch me.”
My eyes flew open, but I struggled to focus. Every ounce of energy and concentration was focused on not coming. On waiting until Maxar said I could. Because hell, if I didn’t want to please him. My pleasure was his pleasure, and after everything he’d been through, after everything he was going through, all I wanted to do for him was to take away his pain and bring him pleasure.
Our eyes locked and his amber flames lured me in like a spellbound moth. I couldn’t look away. We could have been in a room of a thousand people, and I wouldn’t have known—or cared.
“Do you feel me, My Queen?”
I nodded, still unable to look anywhere but at his eyes on his beautiful, roguish face.
“Imagine this, but better, when we are bonded. When I’m inside of you. I am yours, My Queen. Whenever you’re ready.”
My lips parted, but no words came out. I just kept rocking against him, my body a maelstrom, my brain short-circuiting, and my soul a thread away from completely unraveling.
Fresh, powerful intensity burned in his eyes. “Come, Omaera.” Then the flames on my nipples grew in size, and became a darker shade of pink, as I’m sure the one on my clit did too. Pain and pleasure mixed into an indecipherable melange of pure bliss as everything inside of me exploded.
I held his gaze for as long as I could, the bourbon flames increasing the euphoria inside of me, but ultimately, it was too much; it was all too much, and I had to shut my eyes and give over to the rest of my senses. My moans and whimpers filled the room, drowned out only by the thundering of my pulse in my ears. I could smell my arousal, and when I swept my tongue across my lip, I tasted blood. Only then did I realize I’d been biting down so hard on my bottom lip that I’d punctured it.
The orgasm continued longer than I could even fathom, instantly blending into another one as the flames on my nipples heated them to just beyond the point of warmth to almost too hot. But I liked the pain. It was almost like hot wax being dripped onto one of the most sensitive parts of my body.
I’m not sure how long or how many orgasms I had, but by the time the final one receded, I was exhausted. My muscles trembled from being so tight for so long, and I could barely open my eyes.
Sweetly, Maxar pulled his hand from my underwear and helped me slide down to his side, where I instantly curled into his warm embrace, making sure to keep my palm on his chest and my cheek on his shoulder. I didn’t need a blanket when I was with this radiator wrapped around me.
“Sleep, My Queen,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve got you.”
I kissed his chest and snuggled in tighter. “And I’ve got you … my mage.”